Such Polluted Thinking
by Eiji-Joan-Cathval
Summary: Sort of an AU, human!Toris and Belarus story. A story about how a young man finds hope.
1. Chapter 1

"Such Polluted Thinking"

So, where do the dreams of children go once they're grown up completely? Honestly. I've taken to asking myself that question more often these days. Mostly because I've forgotten my own dreams and how to make them. It used to be so easy to simply think of the most impossible thing in the universe and believe that "possible" was a figure of speech, meant to be proven wrong. I used to believe in things like making the stars fall and catching one for myself, seeing places that most would consider boring or uneventful, closing my eyes in one spot and opening them in another. Sometimes I would pretend that if I played the piano just the right way, I could create anything at all. All sorts of bizarre things. They absolutely thrilled me.

However, as a current University student studying some Engineering I haven't quite figured out which yet, I have seemed to have "misplaced" my ideals and plans for the future somewhere. Perhaps, I put them in a box somewhere when I moved into my apartment? Or maybe I dropped them on the side of a Kaunas rode? Whatever I did with them, I certainly haven't seen them around here for plenty of time. Then again, I have not been the most chipper of people these days. So, maybe they were put off by my current more cynical attitude towards life.

It never really helped that everywhere I went on the campus; I was always greeted with the same three questions. Sometimes out of order, which was a nice change in pace for the day, I guess. They're usually also greeted with a skeptical look over and a nervous stare. Anyway, they were relatively phrased the same way more or less. Most of the time they just had to do with my origin. Honestly, I'm not all the spectacular.

Number one: "You're that Russian guy, right?" Lithuanian, actually. But it doesn't matter.

Number two: "Do you speak English? Or just Russian/Lithuanian?" Well, if I responded to you, then I suppose I do then. My accent isn't even that thick, honestly.

Number three: "What's it like there? Do you have…" fill in the blank. Most likely or something close to it. And the country itself is alright, not incredible, but alright. I liked it there, but a change in pace is always nice. I don't mean to sound so existentialist. It just happens. Trust me, that's too hard for me. I could never pull it off.

As wonderful as my daily interrogations are, I believe I've had better times. Most of them occur in the Music Center they own that I mentally thank a hundred times a day for. I love that stupid building. I love it because it's only there I can escape my thick-headed roommate and my patronizing classmates. It's stupid because I'm one of the few non-music majors, let alone Engineer, in the entire place. And they all get ticked off when I'm taking up space in one of the rooms that they could be using to do something productive rather than brain cleaning. To be honest, I'm not fantastic, but I'm not terrible either. I hope. Either way, I love the piano.

More often than not, I'd be sauntering over towards the building, hardly noticing when my nose would hit the glass of the door. My mind was in another place, torn to shreds and crushed by then. I think I tripped over the same trumpet player everyday too. He never said anything, just looked at me, maybe wondering if I was drunk. Usually, I would fall into the nearest empty practice room. I never had much preference for anything too complicated like that. I would throw my backpack across the room, letting it smack into the wall on the opposite side. Wide and spacious, soundproof, and housing a piano. I liked it. I still do. My body would fling itself onto the stool. My head would slam into the wood, eyes closed. As strange as this routine was, it helped. For the most part. Eventually, my eyes would open and I'd stare at the keys for a while. _C, C#, D, D#..._etcetera, etcetera…. Who cares? Oh, yeah. I do.

I didn't have a particular thing to play; I just sort of made it all up as I went. Like improve. Except we've already determined that I'm not fantastic, therefore, neither was the improvisation. Never the less, I rolled with it. I would let the daily troubles float away with the music. Just let them soar out of my head and into the air. One particular time was the beginning of something more real. I didn't want to notice that the room felt heavy and the air thick. I had no idea why, just that it was difficult to breathe. Little did I know it would stay that way for a long, long time. No matter where I would go, the weight would stay. Also, I was unaware of the girl sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

I think I noticed her at first, but thought I was imagining things or maybe she wasn't there to begin with and simply appeared later. I don't really care how she got there. I just wanted to know _why_ she was there. I looked over, still playing, slowing my pace down until it completely stopped. She was staring at me, legs crossed under a long, dark skirt. I bit the inside of my lip. Her hair was long, blonde, and, by the way she was pushing locks behind her ear every other second, seemed like it had a mind of its own. Her eyes were what froze me, however. They were a soft blue, or maybe purple. It doesn't really matter all too much, but either way, they were empty and glassy. It was like she took a class on how to stare at people without any emotion at all. If she did, she probably got the highest marks.

"Hi?" I tried to greet. She didn't respond. "Do you want me to leave?" Nothing. I ran a hand through my hair. I should probably get it cut soon. "Look I-."

"Am I bothering you?" she cut me off. Her voice sounded hallow. Pretty. But hallow.

"Uh…," I started without really thinking of what I was going to actually say. "No, it's fine, I guess." I swung a leg over the stool to face her. "And you're…?" She asked if it mattered. I was caught off guard with that one. After a few second of thought, I replied, "Yeah, what's your name?"

She touched the ends of her hair. "Natalia," she said. It was like the name meant nothing.

"It's nice," I tried to say without feeling awkward. It didn't work out so well. "So then, what brings you here?"

I think that was the first time she had blinked the entire time she was there. Regardless, she ignored my question and asked, "Do you usually wear your hair in a ponytail like that?" I'm fairly certain I smiled in disbelief. I might have nodded, uncertain, but I might have for her to continue on. "You're not from this country," she didn't really ask, more like stated. I nodded again. "And you're name?" Her head tilted to the side, her eyes showing a flicker of interest for the first time. It was like she was forcing information out of me.

"Toris," I managed.

"Boring name." She lost interest again. Thanks. What did she expect? "It's common and boring." Well, yeah. At home maybe, but not here. Here, that name is like a multi-colored butterfly. She froze and studied me for a fraction of a second. "We've already had introductions before?"

My expression must have been amazing. Dumbstruck and completely pathetic, that is. "No? I don't-"

She stood up then, coming to me at a speed that seemed a little too fast and a little too concerned for her. Her eyes were gawking into mine. The confusion was written on her face whether she wanted it there intentionally or not. Either way, it was almost scary. Eyelashes had not looked so dark until now. Funny thing is I don't think she was wearing any make-up at all. They were eerie, those eyes. Actually, her entire being was off. Sort of out of place like she just didn't belong here. She was pretty enough, but her very presence made me feel awkward.

"Yes," she eventually said, "yes, it's you. They're the same eyes."

"They're green?"

"They're the same." The fear began to seep out of me through uncontrollable fidgeting. "When you were a little boy, you gave a girl a flower."

I did a double take. "What?" I tried to think. Needless to say, it was a pointless effort." "A girl?" Something clicked. "I'm pretty sure it was a grown woman…? If I really did… You expect me to remember something like that?"

"Yes." She leaned closer. Anymore and I was probably going to throw something. "Yes, I do. It's important." Too close. She was way too close.

"Why?" my voice cracked.

She pulled away. If I was just a bit more idiotic, I would have thought she was hurt. Instead, she turned away and glared at the piano. "You remember though, right?"

"Yes?" I tried not to sound too uncertain. "Why, though? She was as old as you are now. There's no way-!"

"Whatever." She turned back to me, flattening down her skirts. "All that matters is that you see me, and you remember me."

"What's that even supposed to mean?"

"A lot. It means a lot of things."

She never answered that question. Ever. Not ever. However, from that day on, she appeared, sitting stoic on the bench next to me, listening to me play. I don't know why she showed up so often and I don't know why she cared to bother with me. She was always dressed up the same way: dresses, skirts, and hair bows or bands. She always wore something elegant, something traditional and yet vaguely modern looking. The way she always acted, I amused myself with believing our common goal was waiting for the world to crash and burn. When I pitched this at her, she didn't respond. I don't think she thought it was as funny as I did. Maybe. Only a little.

Each day, I would play piano. Each day she would stare me down, waiting for something to happen. There was something about her, though. I didn't want to admit it, but I began enjoying the company in spite of myself. It gets old being by yourself for too long, I suppose. She was like a nice friend from nowhere. Out of curiosity, I'd continuously ask her questions and she would answer in the strangest ways I'd ever heard. They never made much sense to me at all. But, you know, I'm just a dumb human boy. Did I just say "human" boy?

As the time passed, I became more and more intrigued by the mysterious girl who came every day to listen to my mediocre music skills. She confused me. Her words always hurt and her eyes always bore holes into my skin. She would insult me, glare at me, and mutter corrections into the wood. Yet, she still sat by me. It was more than I could ask for. She never cared for my well-being and she would shrug off any injury I would obtain out my pure klutziness. She would tell me I was just impaired. I would smile and shake my head.

"What do you do when you screw up?" I asked once. I braced myself for the worst.

Her eyes became more focused on me, like she was concentrating hard. It was like she was taking my question extremely carefully. Like it was something intricate. Pulling her hair behind her shoulders, she sighed before replying:

"Learn from your previous mistakes and move on to something else. History is important."

"History…. Life's too short. I'm trying to concentrate on now. How about you?"

"I don't care about 'now'." She said the last word as if it were poisonous.

"You don't care?" I repeated. I tripped over my own hand.

"Not really," she pushed a few strands of gold behind her ear that had wormed their way back into her face.

I let my fingers play a few unwanted flats. "Then what do you think of it? Now, that is."

She shrugged. "A pleasant obstacle of the past."

I took a glance at her; eyebrows crunched together making my forehead ache. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"In the end, it all comes down to what has already happened, not what's going on right now."

I changed the pitch and tempo. Something lower, a little slower. "Don't you have something you're… looking for? Or looking forward to? Something? Someone?"

She tilted her head, almost like she was going to rest it on my shoulder. I'm not that dull. I knew she would never. She took to watching my fingers silently. I don't know if she was thinking or simply trying to keep me waiting on an answer. She fiddled with the fabric of her skirt. It was a brilliant midnight blue today.

"I just let it happen. If I think too much on it, I'll end up killing myself with thinking. I don't really care if I vanish in the future. Sometimes, Toris, life is never simply 'too short'." She let her eyes fall over the walls. "Sometimes it's just too long."

"I see." Not for all of us, Natalia. For you maybe, but for some of us, moments like these become the highlight of one's entire lifespan.

"What are you looking for then? Or whom, I suppose." She wasn't watching me this time, just sort of looking blankly at the nonexistent music sheets.

I stopped playing, letting my fingers linger over the keys. My eyes fell. The words repeated through my thoughts. What was I looking for? I think what I said could have gone better. I turned my head, watching her hair.

"What if I'm looking for the girl with the beautiful hair and the cruel eyes?" She turned to me, not fazed, not caring. "What if I'm looking for the girl that I don't understand and makes everything unclear?" I meant it, Natalia. You knew I did. But you just never cared.

She leaned forward, her hair falling over shoulder as if it was simply cloth or silk. She let her face twist a bit into a soft but very dark smile. She whispered her words to me, letting the ice drip off of them and clatter to the floor, "I hope you never find her." I blinked. Letting a sigh fall out of my mouth, it too hit the floor heavy. She had long sat back into her usual posture and expression. I hadn't noticed, honestly. I was too busy thinking over her strange expressions and explanations for things. If I was so "smart", why did I feel so idiotic? She whispered again, "I hope you find something actually worth a darn, though."

I clutched the piano seat. My head flopped back; the ceiling was greyer today than it usually looked. "You know, I used to believe in all sorts of dreams. Like happy-go-lucky and happily-ever-after. It's all just… shit now."

"You believed in good things to come?"

"Yeah." My response was automatic. You were rubbing off on me, my dear.

"Good things. No matter what, good and happy things?"

"I guess."

She touched my shoulder, my eyes falling onto her. Her hands were so cold. But she had the decency to actually show physical contact. Now that I think about it, it seemed more like she was trying to break some bad news to me rather than her own personal thought on the matter.

"That's called polluted thinking."

I sighed and turned away. "I can't imagine what you've done in your life."

She almost laughed. "We can play pretend if you'd like." She pulled away. "We can pretend we're both the same."

"We are in the end." She stood up.

"What if I turned out to be the worst thing in your life?"

I swallowed. "What if I turned out to be the best damn thing in existence?"

She smirked at that one, almost impressed.

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><p>Hey guys! I know it's been a long while since I've posted... anything. But! This is what I've been working on and I know it's not the best, but human!Toris was sort of...difficult to stay in character and less country... Bah! I tried. More to come, I'm half-way through chapter 2 as I type this. Belarus is the same ice-queen we love, of course! :)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes I thought you were just selfish, Natalia. A completely spoiled and stuck-up woman who wanted what you wanted rather that what everyone else did. I never did ask you _why_ you were the way you were. I never asked you why you looked the way you did. I would always instead ask the same, or at least generally the same, questions when you would pull away the way you had. First, they began like this: What do you want? Do you want the best food, the best music, the best of me? What do you want me to do? Burn down the homes of those that bother you? What will it take to see that I don't want the world to go on without you? Eventually, they became more drawn out and less angry and more hurt. Something like: Did you ever stop and think about how I was or what I did with myself? I would gladly give up misery and uncaring thought for you.

I usually answered myself on them. No, no you didn't. Not one bit did you care. There was nothing in your fiber that would have even tried to. From the time she began appearing in my life, again I suppose, the whole world felt heavy. Breathing became an almost laborious act. Yet, I still want to know why you had these sudden changes in character. For just split moments. For certain moments you showed care and compassion. They were beautiful, to say the least. One of those days, when I asked what she was waiting for in staying by me, she broke.

One particular evening, she asked me what I was doing that night. I shrugged and mumbled something about procrastinating. So, I had a nice full schedule to work with. Maybe she wanted to rest somewhere. Or maybe she just wanted to be out late, but she followed me back to my apartment. There was one thing that never really felt right though. I never heard her breathe.

I can't tell you exactly when I took to drinking, but all I can say is that I never expected it really get me anywhere at all. All those nights of just beer or some other drink I can't remember really never did jack shit for me. Yet, I did it anyway. Why? I can't tell you. She never really touched her glass. Just let it sit there, mocking my empty ones. All it did was show just how pathetic I was. I can't remember when I stopped downing glasses of whatever it was. I can't remember what time it was or when she finally spoke to me. I can't tell you anything. Except that it _did _happen.

She'd come by whenever I asked or whenever she felt like it. Spur of the moment, I guess. Usually it'd go the same way though: I'd lament, crash and burn, then pass out. She'd still be there in the morning and when I would awake, she would rise and leave.

"Aren't you full?" she'd sometimes say. "Don't you want to get up tomorrow?" she'd say on other occasions.

I drank anyway. I was probably the most depressing thing she's ever seen. I knew that. I'll always know that. There was an evening though that made me stop. Just stop altogether for good. I dropped at glass onto the table and let it spill with whatever was left in it. My head fell into my hands. I peered through my fingers. I cringed.

I could feel them. Those painfully stoic eyes. Just staring. Nothing else, but staring. They hurt, you know. Even when you couldn't see them, they hurt. I refused to see. I stayed lurched over. Suddenly, the table was utterly fascinating; the empty glass staining the wood was of my up most interest. Make her stop. Someone, just make her stop it. My head hurt and my eyes were burning. What was this? Some sort of mind trick she was playing on me? Natalia, what are you? I heard a ruffle of fabric. Crossing her legs maybe?

"I wish you had never died."

The words were slow and icy, but most of all, they were dead serious. I think my jaw fell and my eyes widened. I can't remember. But I can tell this: my head rose and turned uneasily to her. There she was, perfectly still, unfazed by what just came from her mouth. I stared straight into those eyes. They're too beautiful to be so cruel. It was at that moment that I came became much more aware of my breathing. I was. I swallowed and my hand came to my neck. Even through the fear induced sweat, my pulse greeted back, almost joyously as if to say "Oh, no, Toris, you're very much alive". It was lying. I was dead by that point in time.

"Close your eyes," she said once. I must have asked why. "I'll show you."

Reluctantly, I did. I sat there like an idiot, thinking she was trying to walk out on me. I stiffened at her cold fingers on my eyes. They felt like they were going to burn through my lids at the frigid temperature. My mind went blank and my senses dulled until vanishing completely. I don't understand but, perhaps a second later, I felt the cold ground underneath my back. The icicle-like fingers were gone, yet the overall air was crisp. I opened my eyes. The dark sky greeted me back. I stared at it for a good twenty or thirty seconds. No way. Really? No freaking way. I was outside. On my back. During nighttime. It was a little after noon a minute ago! I moved my fingers. It felt like chilled plants. I felt the shape. Clover? Oh, God. My upper body bolted up and forward.

Yes, I was in fact outside, on a hill, in a clover patch, in the middle of nowhere. Awesome. My breathing became erratic. The thought of Natalia, whom had been sitting very poised next to me the entire time, hadn't even come within a mile of my brain. She may have been amused or annoyed, but mostly patient. She had the decency to let it all sink in slowly and numbingly that I had gone from one place to the next by closing my eyes. I pulled some of the grass from the ground.

"This doesn't happen," I almost screamed. "This just doesn't happen!"

"Why?" my capturer said very slowly. She was probably mocking me. "Why not?"

"Because!" I pulled my legs to my chest. "It just doesn't… doesn't make sense!"

"Why does it have to though?" She nonchalantly placed a clover on my knee. "Why does it have to have an explanation? Why can't it just _be_? The plant is real, isn't?" I picked it up in my fingers and nodded. "Well then, it's real. This is, that is," she brushed the last comment in with a gesture to the scenery. "Let the world be real. Let reality be rewritten."

"Let the stars fall down?" I was choking on the air.

The grin was obvious in her voice. "Oh? You see it too?"

The sky was bright now. Not with the sun or with city lights, but small bright orbs falling from the sky. Glittering, glowing stars slowly descending from up above. I stared, watching the magic happen. They were gold, pinkish, and silver. I tried to stand, failing the first three or five attempts, but eventually balanced on two feet. I exhaled, my breath catching into the air and into the stars. The lights danced off of everything, the ground, her hair. Everything. When I looked back at her, her eyes now looked like they actually had life to them. She seemed content.

"What is this?" I asked, reaching my hands up. They were hot and cold at the same time. She stood up. "This isn't possible either, you know."

I think she smirked at me. She was probably just thinking about how stupid I was. My fingers tried to grasp one. Nothing but the same strange feeling. They just glowed and vanished. Her hair changed colors with each step she took. It was beautiful. She gave a little twirl. I don't think she meant it to be intentional, but she looked like she was dancing. Probably not. She was too proud to dance around in a field with me. That's what I thought.

"What do you think they are?" she asked, pulling her hair from her face as it pooled over her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"They look like stars," I told her.

"Then they are."

"You can't just decide it just like that."

"Sure you can." She came closer to me. "You can if you feel like. No one's going to tell you what they are, so why not decide for yourself?"

I smiled. I know I did. The only thing I wanted to do then was lie down on the ground again and let the sky fall down, like this. Forget everything. Forget the people I didn't like, the places I never got to go to, the papers I never wrote, the tests I may have failed, the classes I didn't want to see anymore, the future I had forgotten to think about. Forget the world and everyone else in it. Just me, the stars, and the girl who probably hated my guts. But, you know, I didn't care. Not one bit. It was just too good to be true and I was going to take what I was given. Real or not.

I can't tell you how long I spent there with her. I can't tell you how long I smiled. Hell, I can't even tell you where I was. But, there were lights and multi-colored grasses with the air hardly feeling cold at all. There was an exchange of looks with a grin from me and a puzzled stare from her. There was a bow and a reluctant acceptance. There were spins, twirls, hands holding one another. Maybe, for a moment, there was more than one smile. Just for a moment. But it was more beautiful than new snow. When the sky began to grow dark, her hands fell onto my face.

"Have a good night," she whispered to me.

Before my senses fell into oblivion, I returned a, "Good night, Natalia."

I woke up on my couch, sprawled across it as if I had been there the entire night. My heart quickened. No. I didn't want it to be fake. I didn't want it to have never happened. I leaped off onto the floor. I had my shoes on. Good sign! I tripped through the room and out the door. I pushed past some kid carrying a stack of books, ignoring his bitter swears that he called after me. All I could think about was her. Her and the stars. Her, the stars, and dancing in them. I leaped down the stars. Please, please have been real. I could still feel her hands in mine. My heart stopped upon reaching outside.

There she was, sitting on a bench, just as she had been before. Her dress was even the same purple one she had been wearing. She fixed her headband before turning to me. My breath was a mess, so was my hair. I wanted to throw myself into her lap and hold her at that moment. Just to make sure she was the real thing, a real person that wasn't just made up in my head. But I didn't move. I wish I had now. It would have made things clearer than they are. I feel like I'm chasing a ghost or a car that can never be caught. Instead, she stood up, gave me a nod, and left. And there I stood, frozen to the spot. Someone called to me from some floor above me. They wanted to know if I was alright standing outside this early in the morning. They didn't even mention you, Natalia. Did they even know you had just been there? Did they even know that I would have given up my arm just to see you walk back to me and stay?

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><p>Hey everyone! If you follow me on Tumblr you would know that this extremely late... OTL<p>

I'm very sorry it's short! The next bit will be much longer, trust me!


	3. Chapter 3

She was gone. She vanished for two months straight. Needless to say, I didn't take it so well. Perhaps it was my slow decline back into misery that set off that alarm. I even attempted something of doing my backed-up work, only to half-ass just about everything if I even finished it. I could care less. I don't know why. I just didn't care about anything or anyone. What if everything I've done was just a joke or all for nothing? Not just my time spent with Natalia, but _everything_?

There were days when I would be walking to class or around town and see something out of place. Like a glimmer of a dream. Yet, I could never be so sure. I prayed it was her. I prayed that she would show up anywhere I was. My room, the piano room, _my classes_. I didn't care where. I just wanted to confirm that it was real at all. Just to make sure that my own self-worth, my happiness wasn't just a joke my head decided to play on me.

I would still go to those pianos each day. Just like always. I would go and sit there, waiting for something to happen. For someone to appear. I even took the liberty of talking to myself. I suppose in my mind, that would make her come back and tell me how stupid I was being or how I looked crazy for doing such I thing. Maybe I was. But, if she told me that, I would have been fine with it.

"Calculus wasn't so painful today."

"You know, I think it's going to snow soon."

"I head a really cool song on the radio. American music isn't so bad sometimes."

Stuff like that. Sometimes, when I would speak to the empty room, I could create songs that didn't sound so half bad. It was like just pretending she was there listening, or not at all, could give me some sort of ability. Or so I like to believe. It made me feel better. Isn't that all that really mattered though?

I went home one night, my entire body aching in sorrow. I was thirsty but couldn't pull myself to take a drink of alcohol. Frustrated, I tossed the bottle a side and threw myself onto my couch. Fuck beds. It's too far. Too far for my pathetic self to get up and actually get changed like a decent human being. Yet, I was out in less time than it would have taken to be decent.

I dreamed for the first time in those months. In it, I awoke to find myself piloting a rocket ship through space. The stars were in every direction I looked and Earth could be seen just to my right. The moon was like a giant, grey rock just waiting to be visited once more. However, there were so many more things out here begging for their first Earthly visit. I was happy. Excited even. I turned and stared at my home planet, thinking of just how impressive I was. Look what Toris can do! Look where he is! I bet I'm not so good for nothing now! Am I? Didn't think so!

My glee was ended, much to my own child-like dismay. There was a loud band followed by the crashing sounds of glass clattering to the ground. I pushed upright, my back cracking in disapproval. Ignoring it, I snapped my head in all directions. No, it wasn't in here. Outside? I tripped over my table and scrambled my way over to my window, steading myself on the sill.

Staring outside, I noticed how the entire grounds were now covered in snow. Still, there was no glass anywhere to be seen. Maybe it happened downstairs? Before I could turn, I felt my senses jump. Someone else was in here. Burglar? Don't be stupid, Toris. No one wants your belongings or lack thereof. Then, what? Er, whom?

I turned slowly, as if whoever it was had a gun pointed at my back. For all I cared, they could have. No, instead, to my delight, was the very one person I had been dying to see. The very essence, the very hope I had to keep going on. Just to have the chance…

Natalia.

My heart skipped a beat. The amount of joy that overcame me was outrageous. It was her! Sitting on my couch, crossed legged, and so very poised. Her dress was a soft silver. She was like living snow. So beautiful, so very frosty. Even her hair seemed like it was coated in a delicate ice. Just enough to dust her locks and even eyelashes. She held her hair back with a black hair band, accenting her being even more so than it was already. I exhaled for the first time.

"You're…you're here!" I couldn't control myself. "You're still just as beautiful, Natalia." Her expression seemed confused, her eyebrows twitched for a second. "I-I mean…you're back! Where have you been?"

She pulled her hands from her knee, gliding it towards the hem of her dress to remove the crease. "I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly, I don't."

"You were gone!" I slowly walked towards her. "You haven't-!"

"I never went anywhere."

I fell silent. Was she just saying that to make me angry? Did she just want to make me upset while I was happy? Who cares? Before I knew it, I was looming over her. Her head rose to see my face, staring me straight in the eye. Yet, her entire posture never faltered. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to cry into her and tell her how much I missed her. I wanted her to know how much she really meant. But, I couldn't. My hand reached towards her. She remained perfectly still. I managed to ignore my aching heart and instead touched her hair. It was soft and smooth. Just like I believed it to be. It was even slightly cold like I had thought it would be.

"Where were you when I needed you?" I let slip out of my lips. Her hair still gliding between my fingers.

"I've never left."

"You did."

"No. You're very wrong." Her eyes seemed to defrost. "I was there for you when you needed me."

I swallowed back bitterness. "How…so?" I felt like sobbing. Instead I released her hair and threw myself on the couch next to her. She turned, even changing her position to see me better. "I suck."

"No, you don't. You actually managed to get work done."

"Half-assed."

"But still completed."

I glared at her without wanting to. "So? What does that mean? What does any of it mean?"

Come on then. Let's waste some time. You know, just thinking all about dreams. Now, let's waste some more time. On each other.

"You're still here, right?" I nodded, clasping my hands over my eyes. "And you're still passing. Miraculously, but you are." I relaxed slightly. "You're getting better. But you're still waiting on that…something." I felt her move. "What are you…?" My hands dropped and I stared at her. I'm empty. I'm broken.

"I'm tired." And I'm so very much in pain. Out of both misery and joy.

She pursed her lips. And yet, she let conversation drop. "I know." She ran a hand through my hair.

She stayed with me. She sat at one side of the couch while I slept, curled up on the other. I didn't dream again that night. Probably, because my dream had already happened.

Classes were canceled the next morning. Too much snow for anyone to even get out of any building. Props to you, snow plows! Actually, I didn't mind the snow. Reminded me of home a bit. Whatever it is I would like to call home, anyway. Lithuania? Kaunas? Something or other. Leaning against the window, I felt pretty charmed watching it fall down in a barricade attack on the earth. Sort of like a sick enjoyment for the barrage. Even still, I was grateful for a day or more off. Even if I wasn't going to get to go play my precious piano. Natalia had disappeared again for the past hour or so.

I guess we just didn't have much room here to live for too long. There's just not enough room in this world for any of us, is there? Sometimes, I wonder if anyone else could cause you more headaches than me. It's an interesting thought. After all, you're the girl who got into my head. With all those wonderful things she did. The one who keeps me up at night thinking. So, maybe I got into yours. With all the fucked up things I've ever done in my life. In your presence and out just for kicks. But, I need to start digging out those weeds from my thinking. Polluted thinking, right? The kind that gets your hopes up just a little too high for this world? Is that what it's called?

It wasn't long before I decided I was going to go out in that godforsaken snow storm. For the hell of it and because I could. Not that it was a smart thing, but who cares? Oh yeah, not me. Maybe this was some messed up way of giving up? Almost sliding through the building to outside, that is. Maybe this was a crude way of saying "fuck everything" to the world? I kicked my way outside. It was frigid and completely terrible. I found it exciting.

I can't remember how long I was there. All I seem to recall was the sliding of realities before my eyes. What was real and what was sleep was a blur. I must have fallen into the snow. Out of spite or freezing to death is a mystery. I can't tell you that answer. My world was a mess. Nothing was real and nothing was false. I can't even describe the feeling. I _wanted_ it to stop though. Just for that moment. At least, I was happy in death and not pitifully miserable. At least. Yeah, at least I had _that_. However, that was ended as I was pulled from unconsciousness by the lady herself. I couldn't speak, just lying in her lap and upon her skirts. I smiled.

"You're stupid. Coming out here in this…" I grinned and she continued, "It's much too cold to be taking a nap, you know. Besides, you slept the whole night. You shouldn't be that tired." She herself was much warmer than the climate, but her fingers still remained like ice. "I don't understand why you're so willing to let it all burn, well, freeze away. To die is something else…."

Lying here, like dying in your arms, Natalia. I couldn't ask for anything better.

"Y-you're st-still so… beauti-tiful," I managed through a frozen body.

"I'm old." She pulled her hair back. "I'm so very old."

She looked dejected. Almost like her very being was just snapped into many parts. Her fingers combed through my snow-encrusted hair. I wanted to know what she was feeling, why she looked at me with such a heart broken stare.

"I-I don't…"

"It's okay. You don't need to understand. Toris, my life is complicated. I know, all lives are. Nothing in life ever comes easy. At least, not what's worth more than anything you could ever have." I know, my dear. Just like how just because you love something very much, it doesn't mean it was ever meant to be yours. "I still sometimes question my own existence myself. I can never be one-hundred percent sure. You, though. You're real and you have so much purpose. Don't waste it."

Before I could force a response from my trembling self, she leaned over me. A hand covered my eyes and I felt at peace. Relaxed and at peace. Although, I still managed to feel that soft brush on my forehead. A "good bye" or a "pleasant dreams". Something like that.

I awoke. Neither in the snow nor in Natalia's arms. Simply, on my couch in the late afternoon. This time, there was no way that was a dream. Unless I had some sort of messed up inception, I didn't dream about almost dying in the cold. I dreamed about fields of gold and a warm breeze on my face.

Even if it was never real, even if your eternal youth made me weary, I still held onto the feeling that I shouldn't have had such suspicions. I'd gladly die here, there. If that is what you wished. But perhaps, it's just because I hardly cared for my life at all. Still, you told me I should care. Why though? Why was it that I was important? I was fine with that, you know. In the snow, with Natalia, the girl who I loved but never knew.

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><p>Hey everyone! Happy New Year! Sorry for being so late... been very busy and sick. D:<p>

In any case, here it is! :)


	4. Chapter 4 The End

I'm alive and awake. Awake, but still stuck thinking about a dream. A dream that tells me that my life is more precious than I choose to believe. If that dream was reality, should I continue to follow it? Should I still pursue it until I finally find out what happens to all those forgotten ambitions and hopes that children let go of like helium balloons? Are they all different colors? Are they all unique for each child? I would love to know. Above all, I would love to know if she is with them. What if she is simply walking the earth, not floating away, not disappearing into nirvana? Still, the particular thought weighs on me.

_I am alive._ Strange, to think that I was never conscious of it before. That or I really just ignored it in favor of a false, still breathing death. I put it to the side in place of a beautiful girl, a piano as a savior, and a multitude of miracles and fantasy. Now that I think about it, I'm glad I did that. I am very glad that I pushed reality away, just for some time. Come to think of it, I was more _alive _in a pretend death. Before then, I believed that life and death were two very separate entities. Life is there and I'm over here. Time is what would guide my life over to that other place.

Yet, time was irrelevant for her. Feelings were along that path too. So then, why can I see my own footprints in the sand of that road right next to hers? I hope she asks the same questions. Then, in that, we can be even.

The wind was extensively harsh the next night. It bashed against my face, almost as if it was trying its very best to tear it apart. I breathed in the air around me. For a few moments, I felt like there was no ground beneath me. There was no snow crunching under my boots, and certainly no campus street lamps telling me that night was crashing down on my shoulders. I closed my eyes. Let the feeling take over, Toris. It's not so bad just being, is it?

I felt her presence. That off, unreal feeling that made the snow fall just a little slower against my face was around me. Maybe it was my love, maybe it was my curiosity to discover if she was more than an illusion, but I smiled and exhaled. My eyes opening to see her standing beside me, silver dress and blue hair bow. Stature ever so proud, she let the snow glide around her and I.

"Good evening," she said, breath ghosting through the air.

"Welcome back into my life," I said, smile still plastered across my face.

She bowed her head in a silent nod. Simply standing there, I let the time pass. I let any walls break down between us again. After all, my dear, I couldn't stand not knowing. So, I turned to her, pushing dampened hair off of my frozen cheeks. So much for that haircut.

"Can I ask you something?"

She adjusted her glove. "Of course."

"You said that life is too long for some people. Do you ever, you know, get scared of what happens next?"

I only asked because I wasn't so sure of what I really felt. I could stand death only if my heart was still beating, my pulse still ticking away. What about when they stop for good? I swallowed. My heart was beginning to ache just a little too much to handle. So, I let my eyes fall down to the snow. It glistened and shown silver. Did you do that, Natalia? Did your very presence make even the purest things more beautiful?

"What do you mean?" Her words came out softly, delicately.

"Like oblivion. Does it ever just make you afraid to think about what or where we end up in the next stage? Whatever happens after death." I waited, raising my head.

Finally, she took a breath, "I don't fear oblivion as much as I despise eternity." She turned to me, her eyes calculating as if I could already tell what she was going to say. "For me, it's much harder to imagine oblivion or the end without longing for it. A never ending life in which time is merely something to notice every once in a while is a fate much worse." I still hardly understand her. I don't think I ever will grasp what she means or what she is. Still, I listened. "I hate eternal life. There really is no reason for it at all."

Desperation kills, my dear. But when it's on your sleeve, gracing your being, you wear it so well. It's as if it barely even passes your subconscious. Even still, I believe that underneath it all you'll always have this war inside yourself. A war to decide whether or not it was worth it to let your heart be exposed. Will you run away? Or will you fall to pieces when you realize what's happened? Did you finally see yourself for what you are? A woman, a vision, searching for the young boy who could see her among a crowd of nobodies. A proof that existence not a fleeting concept. It really was you back then, wasn't it?

I still don't understand how it's possible, nor do I really give a damn. But what I do know is that you're the most important person in both of our lives. So, fill your life with promises about always coming back and being there. All of those promises that you'll never have to keep because you could vanish away if you so truly desired. Yet, I hope, that someday you will wish you really had kept just one of them for me. Just one.

"Should I be afraid?" I was being so honest.

"No," she gave her head a delicate shake. "You'll be just fine."

I began to ache again. How could she know? How would she ever know? So, the air finally started crushing my bones, and my face started to feel tight with cold. I had to know. As much as I wanted to merely close my eyes and let this continue to sing. I just wanted to continue to hide.

"Should I give up on this dream?" my voice asked without permission from either my brain or heart. It sounded shaky, unsure.

Her eyes searched around us, catching on small lights that seemed oh so familiar. When they circled back around to mine, her blue eyes glistened.

"I haven't given up on you yet if that's what you're asking." My teeth unclenched, allowing my jaw to hang open. "Though my previous statement stands very clear: I truly hope you never find that girl you're looking for."

I laughed letting my head hang. Everything hurt. Oh, my body felt like it had snapped into a thousand pieces. My dear Natalia, you obviously did not take into account that when I fell for you, I fell hard.

"But," her voice sounded like the only sound in the universe. "That doesn't mean I can't have some sort of faith in you."

I don't know if you laugh at love, Natalia, but it will make you cry; one way or another.

She said that I didn't have to understand. She said that it was okay for me to simply not know. Yet, I don't like it, even though deep down I really do get that it is what it is. Still, maybe t's okay for a little polluted thinking. Maybe it's okay to build things on feathers with the knowledge it will never last.

For the first time in months, I thought of Lithuania. Not in the same way I had- that place I was from0 but in actual remembrance of my childhood. I don't think I'll ever really miss it, but I can pretend, right?

I can pretend that my life is made out of stars and feathers and snow. I can pretend I care about where I come from. Yet, there's still that lingering _thing_. That small bit of _something_ saying "wait for me". But, I think that I have to move on whether it catches up or not. So, believe in me, because I'll make it. Trust me, I'll get there in the end.

I love this dream to the point it hurts. I know it. I am completely aware of it. My fingers grew numb, my ears were stinging.

"So, is this the part where I give up?" I asked.

She shook her head. "This is the part where you start trying. "It's time now, Toris." She showed it then, sadness for the first time. The kind of sadness that pulls at you and makes you flawlessly beautiful in the most human way possible. The usual strain she had now seemed so much more relaxed. It was my turn now, to stare at her. To stare and wonder what else I could have done.

I pursed my lips before mouthing a "What?".

Her hand came to my face, shaking and heavy. She exhaled just the same way and whispered, "It's time to stop waiting. It's time to start living."

The wind wasn't burning anymore. The snow had stopped feeling so cold. I guess by that point in time I sort of already knew what she had said. So, tell me something, when you're flying for the first time, soaring without holding onto anything, what falls first? Is it you and your body? Or is it your heart that falters before crashing? Either way, it's not so bad now. Falling, that is. It's not so painful anymore. I understand that now, Natalia. You know that? I get it now. I think I nodded.

"One last time, Natalia," I breathed. It felt so much lighter, so much cleaner now.

"What? Watching the stars fall? Waking up somewhere else?" I nodded again. She smiled and let her head drop. "You can spend an eternity, the rest of your life with me, you know."

I nodded once more, "I know. I planned on it."

She let out a forced laugh. It was like she was trying to force herself to feel. Her head rose, shaking. "But, I can't spend the rest of mine with you."

Her hand left.

"I've already taken too much from you…."

"I don't care," I shrugged and smiled. "I give a damn anymore."

"Yes you do. You just don't realize it. Do what's better for yourself not what's going to ruin you."

She placed her hand over my mouth and all I could do is stare. I stared in awe as she kissed her own knuckles that were the only shield from my lips. My heart split. Beautiful girl, you know how to hurt me. When she pulled back she stared at my eyes one last time, remembering for all I know. With shaking fingers, her cold fingers closed over my eyes.

"I love you, Natalia," I whispered. Because I knew I would never have another chance to say it.

"Yes, I know." My head started to feel clouded. "Thank you." And I was gone.

I awoke on my couch. Bolting upward, I felt cold and heavy. Still, she was gone too.

To be haunted by something or someone that may or may not have ever existed. It's something that I have yet to wrap my mind around. However, I suppose it shouldn't matter whether she was real or not, should it? What if she, this so-called insanity, was just my mind trying to save itself? In any case, I guess that the overall result was a little brighter than most would have hoped for. Sometimes, I still think I see a flicker of long, blonde hair that simply never seems right or out of place with everything else. These bland surroundings. Natalia, you were really more than you believed. But when I turn to see, it's gone. The color of my world returns and pushes out that glimmer of something more spectacular. Did you know I miss you?

So, maybe there's something in a burst of cold on my forehead or the soft whisper I may imagine saying, "I'm real" that I seem to experience on some nights. But, who's to say it is or it isn't? I could build a rocket or not. Perhaps, that's something to consider for a degree…. I'll figure it out.

Never before had I thought of a person to be life's gift to me. There was never a moment before she stepped into my life when I truly believed someone I could love so much would tear everything I had originally believed in life to shreds and then rebuild it in a completely different way. When she vanished for good, it was like having a heavy package dropped on my shoulders. Something of the like that was filled up with sorrow. It took me so long before I realized that this too was a gift.

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><p>Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this! It really was a challenge... Anyway: sorry for taking so long! There was plenty a rewrite on this, but ah well.<br>Thanks again!


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